Introspections
by mteagle128
Summary: What could they be thinking? A collection of unrelated Sesshoumaru and/or Rin-centric drabbles. Ratings will vary from K-M.
1. Perhaps

Disclaimer: Rin, Sesshoumaru and all other characters from _Inuyasha_ belong to Rumiko Takahashi and the other various entities involved with the production of the manga and anime. I do not profit from this piece, nor is any copyright infringement intended by it.

A/N: I originally wrote this back in 2007 as my first venture into the S/R fanfic universe. It was posted on its own, but I decided to move it to this collection. Seemed apropos...

Again, these are all unconnected drabbles, varying in rating from K-M.

* * *

**Perhaps**

I have never understood why people hate the rain.

Rain is naught but water. Without it, all things would die.

So why do people hate the rain?

Perhaps the grey clouds sadden them. Perhaps the thunder and lightning frighten them.

Perhaps it is inconvenient, an interference to their plans for the day.

Perhaps they as children were conditioned to hate it. Children are conditioned to hate many things, their blank slates tainted by the prejudices of others.

_Or_ perhaps, like me, they don't.

Perhaps they enjoy the rhythmic patter as raindrops fall on the ground, on the roof, on the trees. Perhaps they too enjoy the fresh smell of the air as it is cleansed by the cascade of water falling from the clouds. Perhaps they too are fascinated by the power of nature as they watch the lightning crash and hear the thunder rumble.

Perhaps I am not alone–– a nice sentiment to be sure.

The little one, this strange girl who has taken to following me, loves the rain. She plays in it. She is revitalized by it, as if she too were one of the flowers it fed. She does not fear it like many of the others.

She does not fear many things.

She does not fear me.

Perhaps she has no reason to. Perhaps I have gone soft.

I doubt it.

Perhaps instead, she simply understands. Perhaps she knows all too well, what it is to walk through this world alone.

She is not alone anymore. She has me.

And I have her.

Perhaps I am not alone.

Perhaps . . .


	2. Lessons Learned

Disclaimer: Rin, Sesshoumaru and all other characters from _Inuyasha_ belong to Rumiko Takahashi and the other various entities involved with the production of the manga and anime. I do not profit from this piece, nor is any copyright infringement intended by it.

A/N: Just posting more of the old stuff . . .

* * *

**Lessons Learned**

_That day_

It had been so long ago, but Sesshoumaru remembered it clearly—as though it were yesterday.

_The little human girl lay dead in his arms, her body cold and motionless; so still that she seemed more like a large doll than an organic being. She had fallen victim not to wolves or other demons, but to a beast of his own creation. His insatiable lust for power did this._

_He, and he alone, was to blame._

_ Sesshoumaru was no stranger to pain. The severing of his arm, the near destruction of his body by the force of his father's powerful blade were little more than nuisances, obstacles blocking the path to his ultimate goal, but this—this pain, this searing feeling that ripped through his chest and into his very soul, was incomparable to anything he had ever felt. _

_ Never would he admit to it, but he was grateful for his mother's subsequent intervention._

"Sesshoumaru-sama!" rang the chipper voice of the young brunette.

Some things were not worth the sacrifice.


	3. Trouble

Disclaimer: Rin, Sesshoumaru and all other characters from _Inuyasha_ belong to Rumiko Takahashi and the other various entities involved with the production of the manga and anime. I do not profit from this piece, nor is any copyright infringement intended by it.

* * *

**Trouble**

It was not the first time the girl had been in trouble—_hardly_. Rin had a knack for unearthing peril; for some reason, now more than ever before.

Sesshoumaru stared blankly at the charred earth where the long-since vaporized demon had been. He had returned to the scene of the attack several hours later; long after Rin and Jaken had fallen asleep, searching for answers he doubted were there.

It was not as though rescuing her from vermin was a thing he had never done before and she had always gone to great lengths to show her gratitude. When she was young, she showered him with little songs he would ignore or small flower crowns he would never wear. Though she was much older now and though this was the first incident of its kind to arise since her return, he still expected a similar display of thanks. It was simply what she did.

He was dumbstruck when, in total disregard for his personal space and the dangerous spikes of his armor, she wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a firm kiss against his lips. Before he could react, she broke away, merrily running towards the distant sound of Jaken's voice and leaving him alone to muddle through his confusion . . . confusion that prompted his return that night.

It was not the first time he had been kissed. He had no intention of kissing her back. He could not understand why his mind still insisted on dwelling on the matter. Such trivialities had never fazed him before.

He did not notice he had even raised his arm until he felt his own calloused fingers touch his lips. He scowled at the realization.

_Ridiculous._


	4. Freedom

Disclaimer: Rin, Sesshoumaru and all other characters from _Inuyasha_ belong to Rumiko Takahashi and the other various entities involved with the production of the manga and anime. I do not profit from this piece, nor is any copyright infringement intended by it.

**Freedom**

This girl . . . she couldn't be human.

Sesshoumaru watched the young woman as she frolicked through the lush meadow, her bright pink kimono contrasting boldly against the rich green tones of the new spring grass. Sunlight shone down upon her, setting the auburn tints of her otherwise dark locks ablaze in the light. Strong gusts of wind surrounded her, throwing her hair around her wildly.

Rin didn't even notice. She was too lost in her dance; the one she danced to the songs in her mind.

To watch her was to be fascinated. It was an intangible thing, going far beyond her looks, which were stunning in their own right. She just seemed to be above it all—above pretense, above preconceived notions of how proper women should behave. She was headstrong; she always had been. Though she followed him and though she was provided for, she forged her own way in the world. She hungered for knowledge, insisting that she learn as much as she could, not only to be of better service to him, but so as not to be ignorant. It was something frowned upon in this age, but Rin could not have cared less. Rin wanted what _Rin_ wanted, and what she wanted, she usually got, with very rare exception.

And today, Rin wanted to dance in a meadow. So she did.

For a moment, he remembered the late demoness, Kagura. Kagura had always dreamed of being free, only finally finding peace through death.

Rin was free_._

No . . . Rin was the physical embodiment of freedom. It was the only explanation that made sense. Everything—_everyone_—she touched was better for it.

_He_ was better for it. Knowing her brought him to a long-awaited sense of equilibrium. She calmed his temper, lightened his mood and gave him greater purpose in life.

Was everything perfect? No, Sesshoumaru was not so naïve as to expect such a thing as perfection, but after the many years he spent with her, he finally realized perfection was not necessary. Sometimes, perfection lay within the imperfections.

"Sesshoumaru-sama, come dance with me!"

He smirked as he began to close the distance between him and the woman calling to him—the gloriously wild, insane force of nature that was Rin. He could suffer a little indignity for her.

Why?

Because with her, he was free as well.


	5. Dear Diary

Disclaimer: Rin, Sesshoumaru and all other characters from _Inuyasha_ belong to Rumiko Takahashi and the other various entities involved with the production of the manga and anime. I do not profit from this piece, nor is any copyright infringement intended by it.

A/N: T-Rating, to be safe.

* * *

**Dear Diary**

Sesshoumaru found it strange that Rin kept a journal. He failed to see the point of it. He had no desire to revel in the past, nor did he have any desire to put his thoughts to paper. He simply remembered that which was necessary and discarded the rest.

Once, several years earlier, when she was much younger, he asked her why she kept such an odd habit. She just smiled. "Sometimes, especially if I am troubled, writing things down makes me feel better, even if it is only because my feelings are no longer bottled up inside of me."

At the time, he thought the concept to be completely asinine, but otherwise harmless. If it kept her happy, so be it.

Now, as he stared across the vast expanse of ocean clutching that piece of parchment in his hand, Sesshoumaru found he could not decide if he felt more like a hypocrite for engaging in an act he found so asinine, or like a fool for disregarding such simple logic so blithely.

Then again, he never intended for things to become so . . . complicated. Not between them.

Sesshoumaru did not know when or why it all changed—only that it had. Undoubtedly, Rin has always been important to him, but the girl seemed to occupy his every thought anymore. He would catch himself absently staring at her as she went about even the most routine and mundane of her affairs. It was as though his eyes, of their own volition, decided they had nothing better to do than study her—no, admire her—as if she was a piece of fine art. On occasion, Rin would catch him watching her and giggle in amusement, the slightest hint of a blush on her cheeks. He would look away, feigning boredom and disinterest, but, for the slightest of moments, his breath would catch.

Then, there were the dreams—god, the dreams. His sleeping mind conjured pictures of his lips finding hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth as he memorized the taste of her kiss. He imagined how it would feel to have her bare body moving in time with his; both of them freed from the constraints of the layers of silk and the self-imposed rules of engagement that had separated them for so long. He could see the look in her eyes as they descended from the heights of pleasure, warm and reflective of everything he felt but couldn't put into words. The images were so vivid that he feared one day he would wake to find he had actually consummated his relationship with the young woman. He felt like he was losing his mind and there was not a soul living on this earth with whom he had any intention of ever discussing his internal plight.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.

After he was certain his vassals were asleep, Sesshoumaru slipped some parchment, a brush and an ink stone from Rin's bag. Settling at the base of a tree, he wrote his confession by the light of the moon. His words were few, but it had taken all night to find them.

It was a shame she would never see it.

As dawn broke, he returned the items to her bag and headed to the beaches near where they had set camp the night before, walking through the surf until the cold water was at ankle-depth. Kneeling, Sesshoumaru gently placed the paper in the swashing water, watching as the waves slowly washed the note out to sea, ignoring the approach of soft footsteps as they entered the water behind him.

"Did it help?"

He rose to his full height, taking a deep breath of salty air before turning his head to face the source of the soft voice, watching as her slender form as she stopped at his side. He then looked away again, staring absently across the horizon. The soft, treacherous light of the dawn made her look a little too pretty for his liking, and with the night's newfound revelation, he no longer trusted himself enough to be alone with her and keep his distance.

"We're leaving," he said, more sharply than he intended. "Fetch Jaken and Ah-Un."

Rin gave him a curious glance, most likely for ignoring her question, but did not argue the matter. She simply nodded and briskly headed back to camp to fulfill his orders.

Sesshoumaru watched as she walked away. He could never have her—not and give her the life she deserved. He had already seen how this story would end, no matter how badly he wanted it to be different. No matter how often he told himself he was not his father.

Rin paused at the tree line and turned back to face him. This time, he didn't break away from her gaze. A long silent moment passed, filled with only the sound of the waves lapping at the shore, then, she smiled and disappeared into the woods to complete her errand. It took him another few minutes before he noticed, and quickly quashed, the soft smile tugging at his lips.

No, he couldn't have her, but he could never let her go.

Eventually, he would have to make a decision. It was the only course of action that would be fair for her in the long run.

Until then, they could always get more paper.


	6. Temptation

Disclaimer: Rin, Sesshoumaru and all other characters from _Inuyasha_ belong to Rumiko Takahashi and the other various entities involved with the production of the manga and anime. I do not profit from this piece, nor is any copyright infringement intended by it.

A/N: M rating on this one, to be safe...

* * *

**Temptation**

He knew himself, once.

Sesshoumaru had once been the master of his own destiny, blazer of his own path. Every choice he made: clear. Every action: executed with purpose and perfection. Every belief he held: unwavering.

Things were no longer as simple as they had once been.

_She came to him every night._

The girl complicated matters, more so now than ever before. She clouded his judgment, muddling its clarity with thoughts of forbidden desire. The more he wanted her, the more he buried the urges. The more he resisted, the more relentless his dreams became.

Temptation eventually overpowered his ironclad resolution, surrendering him to the darkness lurking in the depths of his mind—surrendering to _her_.

_Lithe, slender legs straddled his hips. _

Lying with her went against everything he thought he believed. She made him feel dirty with every touch, but he could not help but savor the feeling of her fingers gently caressing his skin.

He could not help but want that which she so eagerly gave.

_Lips like flower petals softly kissed his mouth._

Closing his eyes, he sank into the blackness of his soul and allowed to her to taint him a little more.


	7. Vanity

Disclaimer: Rin, Sesshoumaru and all other characters from _Inuyasha_ belong to Rumiko Takahashi and the other various entities involved with the production of the manga and anime. I do not profit from this piece, nor is any copyright infringement intended by it.

* * *

**Vanity**

The young woman sat in the summer sun, fussing with her dark, unruly locks. Some days she just could not stand her hair. Hers wasn't smooth and straight like the other girls in the village. Hers was curly, frequently frizzy and a colossal pain. No matter what she did, what herbs or oils she used to wash and style her hair, nor how often she brushed it, it never seemed to lay the way she wanted.

Rin cast a quick glance towards the figure lounging in the distance and sighed. Why couldn't her hair be more like _his_? He had the most incredible hair—smooth, shiny, silky . . .

_Perfect . . ._

She doubted her lord had ever had one strand of hair fall out of place. Even in the heat of battle, his hair, like the movements of his body, flowed smoothly and precisely; so unlike her. It was probably the reason why none of the boys in the village even knew she existed, at least none the ones in whom she would have also been interested.

Rin sighed again. She did not even bother deluding herself with thoughts of the daiyoukai behind her. She could fill a hundred scrolls with all the reasons he had to reject her. In all honesty, she was surprised he still came to see her at all. He had to have better things to do with his time.

Rin gasped as Sesshoumaru's large form suddenly materialized before her. She stared with wide eyes as he knelt to the ground, amber eyes studying her intently—almost as though he was searching for something. Or maybe . . . he was staring at some horrible disfiguration on her head!

Good grief! Why did he have to be so hard to read?

So lost in her thoughts was Rin that she nearly jumped out of her skin when his hand brushed the side of her head.

"Be still," he said, his deep voice sending a chill down her spine. She froze in place, eyes only flicking towards his hand long enough to see a bright pink morning glory between his fingers. He tucked the blossom behind her ear, giving her an approving nod as he rose to his feet; a single word slipping from his lips as he turned away.

"Perfect."

Rin couldn't help but blush.


	8. Sleeping Dogs

Disclaimer: Rin, Sesshoumaru and all other characters from _Inuyasha_ belong to Rumiko Takahashi and the other various entities involved with the production of the manga and anime. I do not profit from this piece, nor is any copyright infringement intended by it.

* * *

**Sleeping Dogs**

He looked so peaceful when he slept.

There was something about the slumbering form of the daiyoukai that had always fascinated Rin. It was so . . . _incongruous_ . . . to the persona he showed to the world. When he was awake, he was cold, focused. His features were schooled to be nothing but rigid, seldom betraying the true thoughts of the owner, never hinting at the slightest weakness. He showed nothing, felt nothing. He may as well have been carved from stone.

But when he slept . . .

He was a different person when he slept.

The slight, but ever-present furrowing of his brow faded away. His jaw relaxed. His entire demeanor softened; the necessity for the façade no longer present. Even his youki felt calmer, the normally heavy, virulent energy subdued by its master's resting state.

Rin regarded him from across the fire. He even looked younger when he slept . . . _and_ more handsome, if such a thing were even possible.

_He must have such wonderful dreams . . ._

She dared not make mention of her observations. It would undoubtedly be a sore point with her lord. Knowing him, he might even try to avoid sleeping in her presence ever again.

Rin worked the embers with a stick, chuckling softly at the thought of her lord running away from her to take a nap. It was a silly notion, but not one Rin disregarded too hastily. The daiyoukai could go to extraordinary lengths when it came to matters of his pride.

"What?"

Rin jumped at the sound of the deep voice that broke through the silence, jerking her from her musings. A few feet away, amber eyes watched her intently, studying her reactions as he waited for his answer.

"Ah, Sesshoumaru-sama!" she replied hurriedly. "A funny thought just crossed my mind. It's nothing. Sorry to have disturbed you!"

He watched her for a moment longer; his only response the slightest arching of an eyebrow. Eventually, he closed his eyes again, addressing her briefly as he resettled. "Rin, go to sleep. We leave at dawn."

"Yes, Milord," Rin replied as she laid down on the ground obediently, though she was not particularly tired. Maybe, if she were very quiet, she could watch him for a few more minutes . . .

He looked so peaceful when he slept.


	9. Unnecessary

Disclaimer: Rin, Sesshoumaru and all other characters from _Inuyasha_ belong to Rumiko Takahashi and the other various entities involved with the production of the manga and anime. I do not profit from this piece, nor is any copyright infringement intended by it.

A/N: Rated M, because it _is_ necessary.

* * *

**Unnecessary**

She was unnecessary.

Sesshoumaru did not need the girl. She was a novelty—like a fine painting or sculpture one would keep in his home for the occasional consideration. A beautiful, intelligent, energetic human woman he kept near for aesthetic purposes.

He did not need to touch her, to feel the silky softness of her long, dark hair or her smooth, suntanned skin or the gentle curves of her hips or her breasts. He did not need to taste the sweetness of her kiss or the saltiness of her sweat when he suckled her neck as she lay warm and wanting beneath him.

No, he did not need to have her legs wrapped around his hips, nor did he need to bury himself inside her warmth and fight to find their mutual release. He did not need to hear her shout his name.

He did not need to whisper hers.

He did not need to hold her afterwards. He did not need for her to rest her head upon his chest and allow the steady beating of his heart lull her into a deep sleep.

He did not need to hear her say, "I love you," before she did.

He did not need to place a gentle kiss on the crown of her head as she slept or watch her as she dreamed. He did not need to the scent of flowers in her hair to calm his mind until he too drifted into rare, but peaceful slumber.

He did not need to repeat the cycle night after night. He did not need to think that there would certainly come a night when he could no longer hear her voice, taste her lips or hold her near.

He did not need to remember the gut-wrenching pain of the last time she died, there in the dark, frigid pits of Hell all those years ago, nor did he need to realize the pain would be magnified one thousand-fold because there would be no bringing her back this time.

He did not need to remember that he would again be alone.

He did not need to consider these things.

She was unnecessary.


	10. Until I Hear It From You

Disclaimer: Rin, Sesshoumaru and all other characters from _Inuyasha_ belong to Rumiko Takahashi and the other various entities involved with the production of the manga and anime. I do not profit from this piece, nor is any copyright infringement intended by it.

The song, "Til I Hear It From You," was written in 1992 by Robin Wilson and Jesse Valenzuela of the Gin Blossoms with Marshall Crenshaw. It was released on the 1995 _Empire Records _soundtrack. It is copyrighted by A&amp;M Records.

* * *

**Until I Hear It From You**

"_She wants to stay."_

The four words gnawed at his mind as Sesshoumaru stared across the grassy meadow, absently watching the green blades sway in the breeze. His face was calm; each muscle placid and unrevealing—as it always was. Inside though, he was _seething_. He could feel the phrase seeping into his blood, boring through his chest and into his very soul.

It made him want to rip the bright yellow sun out of the cloudless fucking sky.

Sesshoumaru always told her the choice to return would be hers to make. He knew there was the chance that she would want to stay in this village, living the life of a normal human girl; a life full of all the things he knew he could never give her. It was the very reason he left her there in the first place, all those years ago. Hearing it though . . . made it starkly real.

"_She has met someone recently . . . someone she cares for very deeply."_

Sesshoumaru had no idea what possessed that old hag to tell him of Rin's liaisons with the phantom boy—her alleged suitor. He didn't need to know. He didn't want to know. It was not as though Rin was _his._ She was a grown woman. She could make these decisions for herself. She didn't need his permission.

He was _not_ jealous.

Besides, if this boy was so important, Rin would have told him about the relationship. The miko was obviously senile.

_Certainly Rin would have said something . . . wouldn't she?_

Of course she would. They did not keep secrets from each other. They never had. Granted, Sesshoumaru never divulged more information than necessary, not being the conversationalist his ward was. Rin was quite the chatterbox. She would not have been able to help but tell him. There was no sense in doubting the fact. It only served to frustrate him further.

"_I've even heard talk of marriage."_

The very thought of Rin's rumored nuptials bothered Sesshoumaru to an irrational extent. He shouldn't even care.

No. He _did not_ care.

It wasn't as though _he_ was going to marry her. His relationship with his had never been like _that_. Even if he were to entertain the possibility, it simply would not work. They were too different. Rin was such a delicate creature—her human body so easily felled by the slightest of maladies. But despite her innate vulnerability as a human, she was boisterous. Fiery. A troublemaker, but without malice or intent.

She was completely fascinating.

_Ridiculous . . ._

He shook away the thoughts. She would be gone before he knew it anyway; taken by time in the blink of an eye. Besides, what would _he _do with a wife anyway? It wasn't as though he _needed_ companionship. He was content with solitude. He had spent decades in self-imposed isolation. It was a quiet, simple way of living; one perfectly suited to the antisocial daiyoukai. Returning to that life would be easy.

_It would be quiet. Very quiet . . . without her around._

Sesshoumaru bit back a growl of displeasure. Why was he even fixating on any of this? All that old witch had told him was hearsay; a load of gossip and rumors collected from foolish, simple-minded human farmers who had nothing better to do with their time than to engage in idle prattle. He had no reason to bother with any of it.

"Sesshoumaru-sama!" a voice like song called from across the field, the sound announcing the arrival of the young brunette with the lovely smile.

Everything was fine. Nothing had changed. Nothing _would_ change. Things would be as they had always been.

_Until I hear it from you._


	11. Vulnerable

Disclaimer: Rin, Sesshoumaru and all other characters from _Inuyasha_ belong to Rumiko Takahashi and the other various entities involved with the production of the manga and anime. I do not profit from this piece, nor is any copyright infringement intended by it.

A/N: Rated T.

* * *

**Vulnerable**

It was all most unexpected.

Sesshoumaru had no idea that when he reached the village of his recently wedded ward that night, he would find her seeking refuge in the woods—a broken and despondent woman, devastated by the sudden loss of her husband to disease, hiding her tears from the rest of the world.

She was tired of the pity of others, she said. She couldn't take the way they looked at her, as though becoming a widow at such a young age turned her into some sort of leper.

Most of all, she couldn't believe he was gone. They had barely been married for a month.

He sat with her as she cried, listening as she continued to speak of her frustrations and her lost love. He couldn't help but be reminded of how painfully short the human experience could be.

He couldn't help but remember she was human.

Sesshoumaru pushed the thought as far from his mind as he could. Thinking about the ramifications of her humanity made it hard for him to breathe. He had not forgotten how he felt when he lost her before.

Somewhere in that darkness, as he gently brushed the tears from her cheeks, his eyes found her eyes—tired and puffy from the crying, yet still beautiful and filled with a need he had never seen in her before.

He should have known better. She was vulnerable, overemotional and in desperate need of a connection to something real; something that wouldn't leave her all alone all over again. She would regret the decision in the morning, he was sure of it. And if she didn't blame him for her actions, he would.

Yet, he still could not deny her. So, he put all of his focus and energy into being the best possible distraction he could be, hungrily making love to her, again and again, until they were both exhausted and sated. Then, he pulled her into his arms and held her as she fell asleep.

Even now, a few short hours from daybreak, he held her still, watching her quietly as she slept. He had contemplated returning her to her home. He could have carried her there without disturbing her slumber and left without a word, but . . . he couldn't. She deserved more than to wake to an empty bed.

He didn't know what he would say to her when she woke. He would deal with that when the time came. For the moment, he was content to leave things as they were.

And maybe, for a while, she would be content, too.


	12. Just Like You

Disclaimer: Rin, Sesshoumaru and all other characters from _Inuyasha_ belong to Rumiko Takahashi and the other various entities involved with the production of the manga and anime. I do not profit from this piece, nor is any copyright infringement intended by it.

* * *

**Just Like You**

The sun shone brightly in the noonday sky as the young boy strode proudly through the lush meadow. A strong wind whipped his short silver hair about his fair furiously as he contemplated his next move. Yes, today was the day . . . he would know his greatest victory, his greatest accomplishment.

He came to a spot where the grass did not stand as tall as other areas; no doubt flattened by some large animal that had trudged through recently. Slowly, he raised his arms high above his head, and then bent over, planting his hands firmly on the ground. With the utmost care and precision, he rested the top of his head on the ground in the space between his hands. Suddenly, he burst into action, tucking his torso into a tight ball, rolling forward as his legs swung over his head.

A perfect somersault!

Filled with the joy of his success, the boy jumped to his feet and threw his arms into the air victoriously. He then ran back towards the shade of the nearby trees.

A few feet away, a young, dark-haired woman burst into hysterics, the sounds of her laughter filling the otherwise quiet meadow. "Your son is quite the little acrobat," she said, struggling to compose herself as she turned to face the silver-haired man lounging against one of the trees behind her. "He grows more like you every day."

Magenta-striped eyelids opened as the man peered casually onto the child through the thin layer of long bangs, watching as the boy ran in circles, madly spinning in place. After several minutes, the obviously dizzy and disoriented boy lumbered in their general direction, just before walking straight into a tree with enough force to be thrown flat on his behind.

Without shifting his gaze, the man replied, "No, I'm quite sure our son is just like his mother."

Sesshoumaru missed neither the contemptuous glare nor the protruding tongue of his beloved Rin.


	13. Wildflower

Disclaimer: Rin, Sesshoumaru and all other characters from Inuyasha belong to Rumiko Takahashi and the other various entities involved with the production of the manga and anime. I do not profit from this piece, nor is any copyright infringement intended by it.

* * *

She was a wildflower.

The first flower of the spring, she sprung from the ground, breaking free from her snowy prison. A burst of color against an endless sea of white, she commanded his attention. He was injured, angry, and wholly unwelcoming of the little girl who forced herself into his world.

She sought to help him. He sought to make her leave.

As it turned out, she was more persistent than he was motivated, especially in his condition. Her incessant pestering grew less and less cumbersome, until it was ended entirely, silenced by the bays and howls of hungry wolves. Cold though she was as she lay there on that forest floor, her body broken beyond repair, her small form gave him pause.

With one stroke of an unwanted sword, spring arrived.

Her capricious nature brought newness to his world; a ray of light into the blackness of his wicked, uncaring soul. She was noisy. She was wild. She was almost untamable. It was fascinating to see such genuine nonchalance. It began to rub off on him, until the day he made a grave miscalculation and nearly lost her to his own recklessness. From that day on, her safety and well-being were paramount. He would never again endanger her in the pursuit his own agenda.

After some time, and much to her chagrin, he agreed to let her stay in the village of his brother, so he could ensure her safety and so she could learn of her kind. In that village, the little wildflower blossomed, growing more and more vibrant with every passing day.

He did not age as quickly as she; the hundreds of years separating their births rapidly growing less and less relevant. He saw the engaging woman she had become, and she . . . well, she had always been particularly fond of him. The strings binding their hearts grew tighter and more intertwined, until they finally became one.

In a haze of sweltering heat and blinding light, summer came and he learned what it was to love another beyond reason.

Fall crept into his world, so stealthy and secretive in its approach that he did not realize its arrival until it was upon them. His wildflower began to fade, her colors no longer as vivid as they had once been, but she still fought on, refusing to wither away. He kept her close, watchful of her increasingly delicate condition.

Winter came too soon.

The snow swirled wildly around that stone marker—the last remnant of the flower that had been. He could feel his world growing bitterly cold; the frost creeping into the corners of his heart again. This time, he would not let it take hold. In her last breath, she made him swear that he would be strong; that he would not allow himself to wither away as well, if only for the sake of those she left behind.

So he would.

He made his leave, black boots crunching against the snow. This winter would be long. It would be harsh; perhaps the harshest winter he had ever seen, but he would survive, as he always did. Spring would come return.

And perhaps with it, even his wildflower.


End file.
